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The Reader is here presented with the translation of a Poem which has long been popular in Italy. It was the first one of its kind; and when a trifle is original, even a trifle becomes worth something. In collections of the classical Italian poets, the “ Bacco in Toscana” is never left out: and even in selections of the very greatest, it is admitted. There is a splendid publication, in folio, consisting of the greatest and most popular compositions in Italy, the “ Decameron, Furi080," &c., one of which is our author's Dithyrambic. The minor editions of it are innumerable.
That the nature of the subject is partly a cause of this popularity, and that for the same reason it is impossible to convey a proper Italian sense of it to an Englishman, is equally certain. But I hope it is not impossible to import something of its spirit and vivacity. At all events, there is a novelty in it;—the wine has a tune in the pouring out; and it is hard if some of the verses do not haunt a good humoured reader, like a